


Before You

by katsudonfemmefatale



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge (Victuuri) [12]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Banquet, Post-Grand Prix Final, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Smut, chrisvic, chrisvik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudonfemmefatale/pseuds/katsudonfemmefatale
Summary: Viktor can't quite get someone off his mind after the banquet, luckily Christophe is there to take the edge off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEY HI HELLO! WARNING: NOT A VICTUURI FIC!  
> Felt that had to be stated in advance.
> 
> I am once again sorry that this is late, and they probably will continue to be, but I promise to KEEP GOING for your sins. I've had some bad news in my personal life and my online presence may be a little erratic. Or not. I'll see how it goes.
> 
> Thanks once again for your comments; you're all amazing <3
> 
> Shameless self-promo of my blog where you can check out my angst and shitty art: http://katsudonfemmefatale.tumblr.com

"It is absolutely _not_ narcissistic to say you'd fuck yourself!"

Chris laughed whilst making the exclamation, he and Viktor walking through the door to the hotel room, just a little off-balance.

"I mean, why can't you look at yourself and think you're attractive? I'm not saying I'm the most attractive person in the world, but I _am_ attractive... and good in bed at that! So what's the issue?"

Viktor clutched his stomach, doubling up in laughter.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it! I just said it was a bit narcissistic!"

"Oh, so you _wouldn't_  fuck yourself?"

"Au contraire. I do quite regularly", Viktor said, playfully. He was standing at the table next to the door, positioned in front of a large wall mirror which he was conversing with Chris through as he put away his wallet and toed off his shoes.

"Not what I meant, Viktor dear. But seriously: with that pretty face of yours... that body... that ass... you really wouldn't?"

"No. I don't want to see myself while I'm having sex, I want to see whoever I'm having sex _with_."

Chris approached him, snaking his hands around Viktor's waist, leaning his chin on his shoulder and looking at him in the mirror.

"What a shame. Because I can tell you, you look _divine_."

Viktor turned in his arms, their faces tantalisingly close now. Both of their chests were rising and falling heavily, their breath tinged with the smell of sweet champagne. Viktor looked up and into Chris' eyes, glittering and green beneath gorgeously long dark lashes, and felt that he couldn't really blame him. He _was_  devastatingly attractive. Anyone would be lucky enough to share even just one night with him.  
But Viktor had been here before enough times already.

He managed to pull away from Chris, walking to sit himself on the bed whilst removing his tie, which felt entirely too tight right now. The smooth silk ran through his collar with ease.  
Chris remained where he was. He sighed, his face being taken over by obvious disappointment.

"This is rare. I've never not been able to compete before."

"You won silver, Chris. Of course you're a competitor. You very nearly took the gold from me this year."

Chris turned, leaning on the table now and folding his arms.

"I'm not talking about _skating_."

Viktor had successfully removed his tie, jacket and waistcoat, and was halfway down his shirt buttons when he halted at Chris' statement, looking up at him through his silver fringe.

"Then what _are_  you talking about?"

Viktor was confused. Admittedly, he was tipsy and the alcohol coursing through his veins couldn't be helping right now, but he and Chris were usually on the same page.

"Look: you and I have been doing... THIS for a while now. We're big boys, we know what we're doing. But I've never seen you look at anyone like _him_."

Viktor knew exactly whom Chris was referring to, and yet he still asked.

"Who?"

Chris turned now, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not upset, dear. Just surprised. I didn't know shorter, dark-haired guys were your type."

"I don't have a type."

"You were dancing with him all night!"

"So were you!"

"It was _not_  the same way, love. I must admit; I didn't expect such sexy moves from him. He always seemed so shy. We've barely seen him."

"He was drinking like a fish. Maybe he just needed to let go."

"Hmm. I think you must have intimidated him."

"Me?! Why?"

"Viktor, he was grinding into you begging you to be his coach! He clearly has feelings for you!"

"I don't know him!"

"That doesn't mean he doesn't know _you_."

Viktor looked to the floor, considering. To be fair, there probably weren't that many professional skaters in the world who _didn't_  know who he was. It wasn't unlikely that Yuuri Katsuki was just a drunk, overzealous fan.

But somewhere deep inside him, Viktor had to admit that Chris was right. He had thought that from the moment he had turned his head to cheers resounding from the dance floor the young Japanese man had been looking at him, sure that the way he danced with Viktor was different to everyone else, certain that he was staring straight at Viktor when he gyrated on the pole with Chris.  
That last one made Viktor blush. In fact, Yuuri's stare had been so intent, so loaded, so provocative, it was as if there were nobody else in the room in that moment. Yuuri looked at Viktor entirely like the show was purely for him.  
And then, out of everyone in the room, it was Viktor whom he found himself clutching, speaking in slurred Japanese. Viktor would've been sure that he was actually asking him to go to bed, were it not for finally transitioning over to English with a cry of "Be my coach, Viktor!" before launching himself against him further.

"Should I leave?"

The question shook Viktor from his pensive state, and he looked up to the other man who was in the room with him. Chris hadn't looked at Viktor to ask, just remained by the door, shirt half-open, blazer and tie slung over one of his folded arms. He had dressed in haste when the skaters were eventually guided out of the ballroom.

Viktor felt awful.  
Why was he thinking about Yuuri Katsuki, a drunken skater he barely knew, when he had a gorgeous skater he definitely _did_  know stood in his hotel room with him?

He rose and approached Chris, gripping his stubbled chin with long elegant fingers.

"Stay. I want you to stay."

Chris avoided his gaze.

"Christophe Matteo Giacometti. Stop pouting and kiss me."

And he did.

Viktor Nikiforov was a man adored by many, full of confidence and class and glamour. But even though Chris was younger than him, he made even the Russian feel timid, a boy completely caught up in the moment, as opposed to the self-assured man everyone assumed him to be.

Chris kissed Viktor hard, his stubble scratching lightly at Viktor's chin and upper lip, but he didn't mind. His lips were soft, his tongue masterful. All in, he was a great kisser. (And that wasn't the only thing he was great at.)  
Chris brushed the pad of his thumb over Viktor's jaw as they kissed, and Viktor pressed against him, the defined muscles of each of their chests pushed together through their open shirts.  
Viktor slid his hands up Chris' sides now, revelling in the familiar feel of his skin.

The kiss evolved, became something wanting, something hungry. Their hands were running all over each other now, Viktor divesting Chris of his shirt and pushing the other clothes he was holding to the floor carelessly.  
They were pausing for breath every so often now, and Chris was grinding his hips into Viktor. He was an exhibitionist, both in and out of the bedroom, and he liked to let Viktor know _exactly_  what was happening beneath the thin fabric of his expensive trousers. It would have been difficult _not_  to have noticed Chris' impressive length and girth rubbing against his own, though.

Chris pressed forward now, directing Viktor, who followed the movement, walking backwards toward the plush hotel bed. The back of Viktor's knees hit the firm mattress, and he sat as his body buckled. Now he found himself directly facing Chris' crotch. Helpful.  
The expensive black fabric was working overtime, and Viktor decided to take it upon himself to rectify the clearly uncomfortable situation. He reached up and undid the silver buckle of the black leather belt, before undoing the clasp on the trousers. What lay underneath was an even more delectable sight.  
Chris' cock was half out, unable to be contained by the tiny plum-coloured briefs he wore.

Viktor looked up at Chris, who smiled at him with a slight shrug. Viktor laughed a little under his breath, then pulled at the purple fabric, releasing Chris' dick. He leant forward, ready to take him in mouth, before Chris' fingers pressed into his shoulders, stopping him.

"I think we should get a little more comfortable."

Chris pulled his bottoms off as one, bending over to stretch them over the beautiful curves of his ass. Viktor stood and followed suit. There would be no use in them ruining such beautiful fabric by tearing it off each other, best to strip themselves currently.

A now naked Chris climbed onto the bed and lay, propped by the pillows. Viktor followed, making his way up between Chris's legs and straddling him.

"Would you turn around, dear?"

Chris asked and Viktor assented, changing position so he sat on Chris stomach, now staring down at the long expanse of his legs, his groin just in front of him.

Chris was being presumptuous, but Viktor didn't mind. The presumption that he would suck his cock was correct, anyway.  
Chris' dick, when as hard as it was currently, had a steep upward curve to it, and both he and Viktor preferred to be positioned like this. From this angle, Chris' length could slide easily down Viktor's throat.

Viktor bent over and began to run his hands over Chris' muscular thighs, as the other ran fingers languidly up the side of his hips.  
Viktor stroked up the centre line of Chris's balls, and the wrapped long fingers around the Swiss' massive girth. Chris was leaking, his uncut tip flushing a deep pink as it protruded from his foreskin.  
He leaned over, and Chris grabbed hold of Viktor's ass, suddenly and forcefully. Viktor circled the head of Chris' penis with the tip of his tongue, then allowed the full length to slide into his mouth.  
Chris moaned, and the noise seemed to echo through his body, electrifying his nerves so he was clutching at Viktor's ass hard, his toes curling.

Viktor set a pace now, bobbing his head and allowing what he could of Chris in and out of pursed, moistened lips. He would take Chris deep, the tip of his nose brushing against his testes, a musky smell that Viktor revelled in.  
Chris was moaning with abandon now and Viktor could taste salty precum on his tongue.  
Suddenly Viktor jolted. There was wetness behind him, and it took him a second to register that Chris was licking him, drawing a long line with his tongue from his balls to his back. Viktor hummed around Chris, sure to let him know that he was enjoying it, and the younger man diverted his attention back to Viktor's entrance, circling it with his tongue in thick, wet strokes.  
Viktor continued to suck, moving up and down, occasionally encircling Chris' length with his tongue, and humming with pleasure.

Chris was masterful.  
He felt glorious like this, but Viktor enjoyed it too much. There's no way he would be able to continue for much longer when all he could concentrate on were the waves of pleasure radiating right through his body from Chris' tongue.  
He pulled up and off of Chris' dick, and Chris lifted him off of him, spinning Viktor until he was lead on the bed on his back. Chris was panting, sweat beading on the swirls of dark hair on his chest. He reached over to the bedside table, opening the drawer to reveal a solitary bottle of lube. Viktor certainly was always prepared for his encounters; he could count on that.

Viktor had barely caught his breath before Chris was leaning over him, pressing two fingers into him swiftly. He knew Viktor was easily readied, something which Viktor himself was thankful for. It was probably mostly down to Chris anyway, he guessed, thinking of his engorged penis.

"Ready, dear?"

"Oh, _yes_."

"Will you ask nicely?"

"Christophe, love, please _fuck me_."

"My wish is your command."

And without further warning, Chris pushed Viktor's legs up onto his shoulders and rammed into him, hard and deep.  
Viktor cried out, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. Chris pulled back, as he always did, and then worked slowly, allowing Viktor to adjust. After a minute or so, he found it easier to penetrate him and began to slowly thrust, letting Viktor set the pace.  
When Viktor reached the point of thrusting upwards, craving more, Chris deepened his movements. Viktor was crying out moments later, the curve of Chris' dick easily hitting his prostate.

"Right there!"

He moaned, and Chris was grunting, thrusting into him as he was told.

"I'm going to come"

He warned, as he always did, and then Chris was pulsing into him with a low growl, his dick twitching in Viktor's insides as he moved his hand down to finish himself.  
Chris ignored the own sensitivity of his head after his release, and helpfully kept going, determined to make his lover come (one of the things Viktor loved about fucking Chris). Viktor was moaning out not a second later, come pouring over his hand and onto his stomach.

Both men stilled.  
After a few moments, Chris pulled out and grabbed a tissue from the side to wipe himself as Viktor lay, looking vulnerable and helpless.

"May I?" Viktor asked, gesturing to the tissues. But Chris came back over to the bed and crawled up Viktor's legs, then dipped his tongue, lapping up the sticky mess on Viktor's stomach.  
Viktor laughed, throwing his head back on the pillows. Chris' gregariousness was tantalising, arousing... and hilarious.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, Viktor stood at the window in one of the hotel's robes, coffee in hand. Chris was in the shower.

As he looked down at the street, he noticed someone coming from the hotel's lobby doors. It was a young man wearing a blue and black Japan hoody, with messy black hair. Viktor's breath caught in his chest. He could see even from this high up that he looked a little worse for the wear. No wonder, given what he had drank the previous night.

He stood next to his red case, looking at his phone, waiting on a cab, squinting through glasses with heavy lids.  
Yuuri looked so innocent, any hint of the flirtatious and confident personality he displayed last night long gone. Viktor wasn't sure why, but he couldn't take his eyes off him. All he wanted to do was see him, spend time with him, get to know him.

As a cab pulled up, Chris approached from behind and rested his chin on Viktor's shoulder, following his gaze to the street below. Yuuri was getting in the cab, and closing the door behind him.

"I don't think I can do this anymore." Viktor said.

"I know." Responded Chris.


End file.
